In one still moment
before we all move again
we see reflection

Are we not outlines 
a wherein one is empty
till the black lines fade

I imagine that
each stone I still will step on
might just move before 

I love my hammers 
for to hit or to be hit
is not the question 

You can count your steps
as a distraction to reach 
eventually

I am unfocused 
with tides belonging to me 
though I am too still 

We feel protected
by the symbols we live in
it's quiet in there

The full moon goes down
while I revolve around me
the trees have no leaves

For how long are you
gone are all your hanging cloth
an easy freedom

Can you see yourself 
as the black and white you live
all to dissected 

I copied my moves
to unnoticed every day 
iron strings attached 

The horizon lights
the road I drive through the woods
the trees are all gone

I do not know where
because I do not look there
to much illusion